In Which I Bare My Soul For Public Viewing
I’m struggling, guys. I’m really, really struggling.
I could think of dozens of metaphors and short poems to describe this “feeling” but none seem to fit the base need I have: the need to confide openly. And, quite frankly, I don’t have the will or motivation to think up poetic comparisons.
The last 12-15 months have been rough, even by my standards. In (almost) brief, I started, and have now left, a job that had potential to be great but caused me tremendous emotional pain, endured a rapid decline of my 3+ year relationship into emotional abuse and manipulation before ending things and suffering the fallout, I made and lost a best friend to betrayal, selfishness, and threats of violence at a time when I really needed someone on my side, and have most recently moved out of my 7 years home of Plymouth, back with my parents, miles away from the few friends I still have (had?) left.
I am so… lonely.
I am so… ashamed.
How did I let myself get here? How did I let my life erode so deeply?
How this, why that… I could ask so many questions and not find any good answers. Why did I stay in a controlling relationship for months and months after my eyes had opened to the raw truth of it? How was I so weak to let my job push me to crumbling… again? How am I supposed to get through this without a solid “support network”?
I suppose, with a more positive outlook, I could rephrase those questions and have the answers: “I did my best”, “it’s okay to step away from something causing me pain”, “I’m not a failure unless I give up”.
“Ay, there’s the rub!”: I feel, a little, like I’ve already given up. I already see myself as a failure. I already let myself be walked on, pushed down, talked over. I already gave all the love I can muster with this soul and where has that gotten me? I don’t want to answer that, you get the picture.
I’m trying, guys. I’m really, really trying. I don’t know, I guess I just need some encouragement, an outlet, and if I can’t get that solace from The Hell Butterfly then what have I spent my time keeping this up for?
I want to be okay. I’m getting so sick of crying. There’s the initial catharsis of the action, then just a deep melancholy, a loneliness, a darkness that just won’t let the cycle end.
I’ll get through it. I always get through it. I just wish I didn’t have to keep “getting through it” time and time again. I need this awful universe to cut me a break. I mean, don’t I deserve it?